Last week my counsellor’s homework for me was to come up with a self affirmation. In the past I have avoided these because every time I come up with one I dismiss it as stupid (either as something I know or something I’ll never know). The day before our meeting this week I decided on one that I feel is very important:
I make smart decisions.
For as long as I can remember I have been punished for making my own decisions or told that I am not capable of doing so. If I decided to cut then I would lose a friend, if I did not stop talking to my guy friends then my boyfriend would leave me and (possibly the worst) because I have a mental health diagnosis my brain is “broken” therefore I do not know what I am doing. I know cannot even decide which restaurant Michael and I should eat at because the thought I picking the wrong one and him not enjoying himself terrifies me. I do not want to let others down because I made a bad choice.
I need to realistic with myself and acknowledge that letting down others is a fact of life and also acknowledge that I do make good decisions and I can trust myself. I told my counsellor that I was going to make a list of examples for smart decisions I have made as a reminder.
- I decided to go to university for social work
- I decided to go back to school in September
- I decided to take the director job offer
- I decided to leave or not go back to bad relationships
- I decided to turn my life around
- I decided that rainbows are awesome
- I decided that I love working with kids
- I decided on buy Omen
- I decided that I should dress gothy no matter what
I can make smart decisions
I have been selfish lately.
It’s the sneaky selfish disguised as caring about myself when really I am being completely self absorbed.
All I can think about is how unstable I feel which is physically showing with twitching, sighing, sad expression, wanting to sleep and needing excessive cuddling. It is all I can talk about once you get me to talk about it or I just won’t talk about it all and then that fact takes over the conversation.
My partner is worried because I usually talk about everything but I won’t talk about this. I’m beating around the bush but I guess that’s the best I can do right now.
I’m not being fair though. He has his issues and his worries and I’m doing nothing to console him. I’m making it all about me and right now I like that but it shouldn’t be happening.
I’m doing this to myself. I’m being selfish and wallowing in my pain when I really should be acting. My time for self pity is up.
When I was looking up trivia for the kids at work I found a fact that said that just smiling, even if you’re not happy, can make you happier. Of course I cannot find this fact now but regardless I think it works and I’m going to give it a shot.
I posted yesterday about how I just have nothing to say about what I’m experiencing. Many of you encouraged me to write something regardless of I think it’s going to be stupid and boring so I’ll give it a shot. I know you’ll accept and understand anything I put out
I don’t care and I don’t know. Those have gradually become my mantras over this past month.
Counselling isn’t as “action packed” as they used to be because I just have nothing to say.
I do not think this is a self-fulfilling prophecy anymore. I’m not upset about anything. I believe more and more, with each passing day, that the birth control was the rage factor.
I used to feel charged. I had a kick in my step. Last night, on the bus ride home, this man kept staring at me. As a young woman trained to be suspicious I created wild stories in my head about how this man might follow me home and what would I do. Usually, if not always, I would feel confident that I could kick his ass and get away. Not last night. I didn’t feel that burning inside, that fight. I instead felt nothing, not even flight. I put my keys in between my fingers so I could stab him in the face. He didn’t follow me home. I was so sad that I didn’t feel the anger.
This isn’t just a loss of rage. There was a confidence that came with the constant adrenaline pumping through my body. I know I talked about how it was painful but I felt untouchable. I could walk with my head held high, I felt like I could take on anything or at least try.
I miss that.
I’m very low. I don’t want to call it sad but it’s easier for me to get sad. I don’t want to become depressed. I’m closer to that now than I have been over the past 6 years.
I’m not me.
I need to start getting ready for work and stuff. I would like to straighten my hair and I’m running out of time fr it to dry on it’s own (less frizz).
It upsets me that some can see having mental health issues as being a curse. Does it have its moments of being horrible to the extent that you’d rather not exist any more? Hell yes! I feel that having these issues gives us great insight into who we are and challenges us to always self improve and try hard at what we do (not that I enjoy overcompensating because people think I’m incapable but hopefully you get what I mean).
I realized a few months ago that since I began displaying borderline traits I have improved greatly in my life. This could be because of my awesome management skills or not actually being “ill” at all, just being myself.
I remember the day when I possibly turned completely borderline. It was like a switch.
I experienced an unnamed trauma which finally gave me a reason to be as depressed as everyone thought I didn’t have the right reasons to be. I found myself just as alone, dealing with this trauma, as I normally was. It was devastating. I needed the support but everyone kept telling me that it was no big deal. My partner at the time couldn’t support me either. He always started crying when I wanted to talk about it. “Don’t you think it hurts me too?” He’d say through his tears. I would stop crying and try to comfort him.
Finally, a week or two after the incident occurred something happened. My partner was crying again when I had tried to talk to him and that’s all I remember. My memory picked up again about an hour later in a conversation that made no sense to me. My partner explained that someone else had come through me. My tone had changed, my body language, my speech, and my expression had changed. We realized that I had developed another personality so to speak.
He named her Sarah. She was a bitch. She wasn’t afraid to say what was supposed to be said. She was cocky, relentless and overall everything I was not. My partner told me that Sarah had told him how he was being a baby and treating me like shit; that although she didn’t care for me, she thought that he was being pathetic, crying over the incident and letting me silently fall apart. That wasn’t a man, she had told him.
Sarah came around quiet frequently and my partner became the biggest trigger that would bring her on. He liked her. I thought and still do that, that is sick, to like my other personality, my coping mechanism which meant that I couldn’t deal with reality, more than me.
After we broke up Sarah only made two more appearances. She wasn’t even around for a year and for that I am thankful.
While writing my story for a mental health organization I work with I began to analyze Sarah for the first time. She is one half of my borderline traits. Sarah never left me. She just melted into me.
How did this safe my life? I became angry, I developed black and white thinking and I gained confidence.
I had never been angry before. People walked all over me. Becoming angry allowed me to gain control in my life. I could tell people that they had wronged me and that I was not going to be their punching bag anymore.
I think that my black and white thinking is my super power. I had never been able to let go of those who hurt me. By “splitting” I could easily show myself how someone was not worth my time and effort. I could painlessly walk away from that person or that situation instead of hating myself for screwing up.
All of this just lead to confidence. I could finally protect myself from others and from myself.
Bad days will always exist but I’d rather be who I am now than who I was before.